


Himring's nights

by Lumeriel



Series: Middle Earth's nights [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 19:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeriel/pseuds/Lumeriel
Summary: Maedhros&Fingon are looking at the stars in Himring.





	Himring's nights

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt with this two.

**M:** He is there, with hands in his hips and head thrown back. His lips are curved in a soft smile that makes me think in happier days, days of innocence and joy… He always makes me think in joy, though not always my thoughts are innocent around him. Silver light touches his raven hair – now without golden ribbons – and I look at him holding my breath. He inhales deeply, with closed eyes and his smile becomes wider. He opens his eyes and I can see them sparkling. Suddenly, he turns toward me and says: “Stars. I love stars. Do you know that I can’t see the stars in Hithlum as frequently as I would like? There is a lot of fog. I suppose that’s why we called it Hísilómë* in first place”, he concludes, arching the left brow, mockingly. I barely nod and he pouts like a child. “Don’t you like the stars, cousin?”, he asks, almost… childlike. “I do”, I say without parting my eyes from him. He laughs, amused. “But, you are not looking at them!” _You are so wrong: I’m looking at the only star I love._ He blushes and I find out that I’ve said it aloud. 

**F:** Here I am. Ten paces. Only ten paces split us up. I’m not looking at him… I don’t need to see him for remember his face, his expression, his eyes… I’ve always loved his eyes: they shine like stars. So, instead, I look at the stars. I inhale, filling my lungs with his smell. I start to talk for distract myself. “…I suppose that’s why we called it Hísilómë in first place”, I joke. Apparently, he doesn’t think it’s funny. “Don’t you like the stars, cousin?”, I ask, my eyes fixed in his once perfect face – oh, I know he thinks himself ugly but, I… - “You are not looking at them!” I insist, trying to forget that stupid dreams. “You are so wrong: I’m looking at the only star I love.” He is looking at me. He has said that… while looking at me. He has said… My hearts stops and, now, stars are dancing in my chest and my head.

**Author's Note:**

> *Hisílome (quenya) means Fog's earth, more or less i think (I'm really bad at quenya)


End file.
